The organisations were the BBC (the well-known public service media organization), S4C (the smaller Welsh-language public service broadcaster), and the LEGO Group (the international producer of construction toys and learning tools). Each collaboration was concerned, in some way, with the production of a digital platform which would enable people to contribute their own creative expressions within a structured environment.

Traditionally the flow of written-down knowledge is – or is supposed to be – from university research expertise (as captured in research publications) to the work that one might do, subsequently, with ‘industry’. (In higher education jargon, ‘industry’ can mean any kinds of companies, non-commercial organisations, and even governments, or charities).  I wanted to close that loop by taking what I had learned from those latter experiences back into the realm of the research publication.

Now, left to my own devices, my ‘research output’ would be in the form of books, where you have room to explore a set of ideas properly, and put them together in a pleasing unit; plus things online, such as blog posts and videos, which you can post immediately, and get feedback, and have a conversation. So me doing an article for an academic journal is, alas, evidence that the government’s research assessment exercise (previously called the Research Assessment Exercise, now meaninglessly renamed as the Research Excellence Framework (REF)) does indeed shape the behaviour of creatures in the environment which it is meant to measure. (Because the REF is thought to like journal articles, and to dislike things self-published onto the Web – even when those things have gathered subsequent attention which is more significant than having been approved by a couple of journal referees; but I digress…).

The article suggests a few conclusions about university-industry collaborations – most significantly, that the best ones involve relationships and conversations which go deeply into the organisation and its future plans, and enable the partners to generate ideas together, rather than being mere ‘evaluation’ of products or services that have already been designed. (In my own experience, the most positive ‘deep’ collaborative experience has been with LEGO, and the less positive – but still instructive – experience was with the BBC, who seemed to equate researchers with market research and product testing).

Then the article arrives at a list of eight principles for the design of online platforms for creativity, which follow from reflection upon the collaborative projects.

I’ve included these eight principles in a couple of talks recently, and mentioned – when people appear to be scribbling them down – that I should stick them in a blog post soon. That sounds straightforward enough, but in fact adds to the difficulties presented by the world of academic journal articles, because they take so long to come out that if I write an article in 2011, and then blog about it in early 2012, it’s still possible that later in 2012 the journal will say they can’t publish it in 2013 or 2014 because it’s no longer original, because I’ve put the stuff in a blog. That may be unduly paranoid, so I’m trying to ensure that that doesn’t happen by pre-emptively noting how silly that situation would be, in this paragraph, here, now.

The eight principles

In this short blog version I’m not going into the details of the collaborative projects with the BBC, S4C, and LEGO, but all three were intended, in different ways, to produce, or contribute to the development of, digital platforms which would enable users to express themselves creatively, and to connect with others.

Looking across the three collaborations, I identified eight basic principles concerning the design and development of digital platforms, where such platforms are intended to be of benefit to users in terms of the development of creativity and learning. The eight principles are:

1. Embrace ‘because we want to’.
2. Set no limits on participation.
3. Celebrate participants, not the platform.
4. Support storytelling.
5. Some gifts, some theatre, some recognition.
6. Online to offline is a continuum
7. Reinvent learning.
8. Foster genuine communities.

These eight principles will now be explained in a little more detail. (In the longer article version, the principles are linked to examples or illustrations from the three projects, but I’ve left that out here).

1. Embrace ‘because we want to’

In the research conducted for these projects and for the book Making is Connecting (Gauntlett, 2011), it became apparent that perhaps the number one driving force behind online and indeed offline creativity and participation is the opportunity afforded to people to do whatever they like, whatever interests them, just because they want to. YouTube has filled up with millions of non-professional videos in just a few years, and similarly Wikipedia has been populated by millions of articles about so many diverse topics, just because the opportunity is there for people to contribute material which can be seen by others.

Many people are already eager to make and share material, so a digital platform just has to support this and offer appealing tools to help this inclination to develop. The reasons why people want to do this are covered in some of the points below: the desires for storytelling, gifts, theatre, recognition, connection to the rest of life, learning, and communities.

2. Set no limits on participation

Online platforms should welcome all kinds of contribution and engagement. (There are typically a number of exceptions to this – such as pornography, bullying material and hate speech – but the prohibited list should be simple and unsurprising). The platform should not try to force particular forms of participation, but should support participants in following their preferences and interests. Platforms should undergird the self-efficacy beliefs of individuals: that is, their sense that they can make a difference in the world, and that this difference can be attributed to their own deliberate actions. These beliefs are likely to be fostered by platforms which enable users to make their mark, and which are designed to encourage constructive interventions from others.

Setting no limits on participation is not the same as not caring about what happens on a platform. These systems should be carefully designed in order to encourage creativity and community (some indications of how to do this appear in the following principles). Setting no limits merely means that the creativity of users should not be constrained by pointless or arbitrary limits on what can or can not be done on the platform.

3. Celebrate participants, not the platform

In the same way that an overenthusiastic film director can ruin a movie by adding attention-seeking flourishes which detract from the performances and comprehension of the plot, so the designers of online platforms can stifle the self-expression and enthusiasm of users by adding branding, furniture, or other unwanted layers, which get in the way of unconstrained imagination.

A platform is, by definition, a stage upon which diverse users can make their mark, and it should be designed to enable them to show their creativity in its best, most expansive light. A platform which seems overly pleased with itself, or with showing off its own material, or with trying to get you to do things which its designers think is a good idea rather than what users really want to do, is going to be disappointing and frustrating.

4. Support storytelling

Storytelling is a powerful way in which people come to understand the world, understand themselves, and connect with each other (Ricoeur, 1984, 1985, 1988, 1992; see discussion in Gauntlett, 2007: 166–172). This is not necessarily through the telling of lengthy tales to each other, but through snatches of biography, and drops of narrative linking together information to make it meaningful. Blogs, YouTube videos, and even Twitter messages (especially when accumulated over time) can be different forms of storytelling enabled by online platforms. Stories can be deeply expressive, as long as they are told in the characterful voice of a reflective individual, or the shared experience of a group.

5. Some gifts, some theatre, some recognition

Creative participation in online spaces is motivated by a range of factors. In previous work I have pulled together research on such motivations (Gauntlett, 2011), and here highlight three: the sense of giving a kind of gift to others; the notion of the platform as a performative space; and the desire for some kind of recognition.

Since digital items such as videos and written texts can be replicated indefinitely, lacking any exclusivity, they can seem an usual kind of gift. But part of online sharing is, nevertheless, the giving of a gift, which is both the digital object and the careful creative intention which went into that object. Digital platforms should enable participation in this gift economy, where exchange of creative materials, and the prestige which can accompany such sharing, are central (Jenkins, 2009; Hyde, 2007).

There is also the sense of a theatre of creativity – users are given a public stage upon which to present their creative selves, or at least an intended impression of such – and usually welcome the opportunity to interact with their audience. In this theatre, material is presented in order to show off  a particular set of interests and concerns, often using a carefully calibrated mix of the professional or formal, and the personal or informal (similar to the patterns of self-presentation on Twitter identified by Marwick & Boyd, 2011).

Motivations for sharing online also frequently include a gentle but significant desire for some kind of recognition (Gauntlett, 2011: 100–1). People like to show their existence and ideas in the theatre, but they often also want this to be noticed. This is a legitimate and rational wish to be recognised and accepted as a worthwhile contributor to a community of like-minded people. This can vary between users, of course, and between services: most platforms make contributing users quite visible, and typically organise content around their creator (as in the YouTube ‘Channels’ which bring together all the content uploaded by a user), but Wikipedia has become massive despite offering almost none of the rewards of recognition. Wikipedia contributions are merely listed by username in the ‘History’ tab, which is a faceless kind of listing, and which most readers will never look at.

6. Online to offline is a continuum

The digital realm is still often seen as a distinct online space, which people occupy in a different way, and separately, from the rest of their lives. However, the rise of Web 2.0 is also associated with a greater integration of the online and the offline: social tools such as Twitter and Meetup foster connections between people who may then meet up in real life, and sites like Landshare, Ecomodo and Streetbank encourage people to meet and exchange things with their physical neighbours.

Online platforms can be most effective when they lay tracks from everyday interests and enthusiasms through to a set of value-adding tools and an engaging community. The desires and concerns we have offline are part of who we are online, of course, and the reasons why people like to make and share things in the physical sphere of hands-on craft are strikingly similar to the reasons why people make and share online (Gauntlett, 2011: 64–108).

7. Reinvent learning

Learning has, of course, always occurred across all ages and in varied places, but today there are greater opportunities for informal, self-initiated learning, for people of all ages and across a diverse array of interests, supported in particular by online communities of enthusiasts who are willing to discuss, share ideas, and inspire each other. Innovation in learning is often associated with new technologies, whether at school (Selwyn, 2011; Facer, 2011) or university level (Christensen & Eyring, 2011; DeMillo, 2011), but the particular opportunity here is to engage people’s interest in learning away from established learning institutions. The internet gives people access to networks of other people who share their interests, dispersed geographically, and so individuals can support, inspire and learn from others, where previously this was difficult. The ubiquity of online social networks, regularly accessed via mobile devices as well as other computers, means that informal learning can be embedded in everyday life.

Well before the internet became accessible and popular, radical writers on education and learning, such as John Holt (1964, 1967) and Ivan Illich (1971, 1973), argued that learning is a natural process which flourishes when learners can follow their own interests, and explore whatever engages their curiosity. They suggested that a planned system of teaching destroys the natural joy of learning, and therefore that we should prefer informal learning that is lightweight, flexible, and spontaneous, and which involves processes where learners can make their own meanings and express themselves through action. Today, online platforms make these ideals much more possible (although the supportive quality of online communities cannot be guaranteed).

In line with the other principles, people should be enabled to follow their own interests and enthusiasms, not have their learning tasks determined for them; should be able to engage on a straightforward, unfussy platform with other learners; be able to exchange knowledge in a space where they can make visible, authored contributions and be recognised for them; and be supported to connect this learning with everyday offline life.

8. Foster genuine communities

The term ‘community’ is used quite freely to describe online gatherings of users, but a collection of people with an interest in common do not necessarily have the bonds of mutual respect, trust and support which are central to the more careful use of that term. Online platforms should be designed so that users are encouraged to give feedback to others, and to form bonds with identifiable users over time. This is not a process which happens at random – platforms can be designed to make supportive conversations more likely.

Clay Shirky has observed that the comments posted in response to YouTube videos are often awful (although it varies by type of video, and therefore typical motivation of viewer), but that other sites are able to host civil, productive conversations amongst people with common interests (he cites programmers on StackOverflow, crafters on Etsy and Ravelry, and mathematicians on Polymath, amongst others). The difference between the constructive and the negative conversations can be designed for if we have an awareness of a number of variables, which include ‘the scale of the audience, the commitment of the participants to each other and to shared enterprise, and the willingness and ability of the participants police violations’ (Shirky, 2011). This does not mean, of course, that fostering an encouraging and supportive online community is easy.

References

Christensen, Clayton M., & Eyring, Henry J. (2011), The Innovative University: Changing the DNA of Higher Education from the Inside Out, San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

Christensen, Clayton M.; Horn, Michael B., & Johnson, Curtis W. (2008), Disrupting Class: How Disruptive Innovation Will Change the Way the World Learns, New York: McGraw-Hill.

DeMillo, Richard A. (2011), Abelard to Apple: The Fate of American Colleges and Universities, Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Facer, Keri (2011), Learning Futures: Education, Technology and Social Change, Abingdon: Routledge.

Gauntlett, David (2007), Creative Explorations: New approaches to identities and audiences, London: Routledge.

Gauntlett, David (2011), Making is Connecting: The social meaning of creativity, from DIY and knitting to YouTube and Web 2.0, Cambridge: Polity.

Holt, John (1964), How Children Fail, New York: Pitman.

Holt, John (1967), How Children Learn, New York: Pitman.

Hyde, Lewis (2007), The Gift: How the Creative Spirit Transforms the World, London: Canongate.

Illich, Ivan (1971), Deschooling Society, London: Calder & Boyars.

Illich, Ivan (1973), Tools for Conviviality, London: Calder & Boyars.

Jenkins, Henry (2009), ‘What Happened Before YouTube’, in Jean Burgess & Joshua Green, YouTube: Online Video and Participatory Culture, Cambridge: Polity.

Marwick, Alice E. & Boyd, Danah (2011). ‘I tweet honestly, I tweet passionately: Twitter users, context collapse, and the imagined audience’, New Media and Society, vol. 13, no. 1, pp. 114-133

Ricoeur, Paul (1984), Time and Narrative: Volume 1, translated by Kathleen McLaughlin and David Pellauer, Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Ricoeur, Paul (1985), Time and Narrative: Volume 2, translated by Kathleen McLaughlin and David Pellauer, Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Ricoeur, Paul (1988), Time and Narrative: Volume 3, translated by Kathleen McLaughlin and David Pellauer, Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Ricoeur, Paul (1992), Oneself as Another, translated by Kathleen Blamey, Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Selwyn, Neil (2011), Education and Technology: Key Issues and Debates, London: Continuum.

Shirky, Clay (2011), ‘The Design of Conversational Spaces’, document for module at New York University, January 2011, available at http://journalism.nyu.edu/assets/Syllabi/2011/Fall/Conversation-Syllabus.doc

Photo deposited in the Wikimedia Commons by user Nomadtales. Some rights reserved under a Creative Commons BY-SA 3.0 licence.

So here are some links:

A Tweetdoc PDF showing all 413 of the Tweets from the day.

Claire Ross (@clairey_ross) has very helpfully written up her notes in five parts:

• 8 Principles for Digital Transformations
• Informed Bewilderment and Ignorance
• The Museum of the Future
• Being Playful: Content provider to creative lifecycle
• Scholarship vs passion

Katie Smith (@K8ieSmith) was prompted to write about crowdsourcing – engagement or exploitation?.

Mariam Cook (@MariamCook) took up a particular theme in her post, ‘Social brands must meet people in “loose around the edges” spaces’.

Jon Hickman (@jonhickman) wrote a guest post for this blog, building on a discussion about lurkers. And then Mariam Cook took up his argument as part of her discussion in a post called, ‘Pinterest, Kotex, influencer mythology and moments of joy’.

Amy Twigger Holroyd (@amykeepandshare) wrote a guest post for us, connecting the idea of platforms with her experience as a knitting community builder.

We will probably have more bloggage to add soon.

Photo by Flickr user mpclemens. Some rights reserved under a Creative Commons BY 2.0 licence.

Lurking is the activity of being present in an online space but not contributing to it. Sometimes lurkers are anonymous and invisible to those who are active (think web forums that allow guest viewers, or even those who read the comments on blogs but do not leave a comment). In other cases they participate to the point of signing up for a service, and so are visible, but do not contribute new material to the online activity. Lurkers can shift mode at any point, and often reveal themselves as “delurking” (as though calling a radio phone-in “long time listener, first time caller”).

At last week’s workshop one of the breakout groups sought to stratify participation into various levels of engagement, and we spoke up for the lurkers as being participants in this model.

The suggested levels of participation are:

• lurkers – those we can’t see
• distributors – those who share and amplify the content of others through e.g. retweets, link sharing, pinning, bookmarking
• commenters – those who comment on other’s material or organise it through tagging, adding meaning to it
• producers – those who produce original content
• coders – those who build the platforms that allow and put limits upon participation
• analysts – those who reflect upon all of these activities and might feedback into future models of participation (journalists, academics)

So what do these lurkers do, and how can it be considered participation?

We should see lurking as something other than reading, otherwise we should just call the activity reading and see the lurkers as an audience. The word itself sounds slightly sinister – we are encouraged to imagine the lurker skulking in the shadows watching something unfolding. It is the unfolding nature of the media which lurkers engage with that defines their action; lurkers are readers, true, but readers of particular types of media. They are readers of the media around participatory culture.

Lurking is learning is doing

Where do lurkers lurk? They are often found lurking within communities of practice, and these are often spaces of informal learning. As this is David’s project, let’s use a knitting example: online knitting communities are not where knitting happens, they are places where knitting is discussed. The thing that knitters value, the social object that brings them to that space to talk, is not the website, it is the knitting. Lurkers can contribute to the culture of knitting without revealing themselves online through simply doing more knitting, but their engagement with the online activity will inform the knitting that they produce.

A real example now: in my study of Help me Investigate (a participatory platform for investigation) I found that learning from the community was a key benefit to participants. Members described lurking through one investigation and then becoming empowered to delurk and start their own new investigations.

Lurking is advocacy

At the event we heard from one delegate about a woman who had never commented or liked anything on her participatory group’s Facebook page. In offline fora, the same woman was the strongest and loudest advocate for their work. Her practice as a lurker meant she was immersed in the detail of the group’s work and was able to speak for it in offline spaces.

Lurking enables further participation 

Another finding from my work with ‘Help me Investigate’ (HMI) was that the lurkers in my case study actually took part in other participatory activities: they were in a sense activated through lurking but deployed deeper participation elsewhere.

My case study was of an investigation which asked ‘When can we expect a new birmingham.gov website?’. Over an eleven-month period to 28th May 2010, thirty-two people joined the investigation’s page at HMI. During that time, the investigators uncovered delays (by more than three years), budget over-spends (the cost of the project increased from £580,000 to £2.8 million) and technical issues at the heart of the project to deliver a new website for Birmingham City Council.

BCC DIY was a spin off from the investigation. It offered a direct challenge to the Council through the production of a citizens’ version of their website. Developed over a few days with free labour, it offered a far more radical challenge to the City Council than the investigation did. Lurkers from the HMI investigation were prominent and active in the BCC DIY intervention, but their activity was not recorded on the HMI website.

Seeking out hidden actions

I have taken to calling participations by lurkers “hidden actions”. The extent of participation by lurkers shouldn’t be underestimated, and as academics we need to be mindful that the thing that happens online is just part of a story. Lurking is not passive; it shows engagement, it hints that something else is happening somewhere. The lurkers are watching us right now. Who knows what they’ll create next?

Some reading on lurking:

Chen, F.-C. (2004) Passive forum behaviors (lurking): a community perspective. Proceedings of the 6th international conference on Learning sciences. Series Passive forum behaviors (lurking): a community perspective; City: International Society of the Learning Sciences. pp. 128-135.

Nielsen, J. (2006) Participation Inequality: Encouraging More Users to Contribute [Online]. Available: http://www.useit.com/alertbox/participation_inequality.html.

Nonnecke, B. & Preece, J. (2000) Lurker demographics: Counting the silent. CHI 2000. Series Lurker demographics: Counting the silent.; City: ACM.

Photo by Flickr user framheim. Some rights reserved under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 2.0 licence.

This is one of the questions we’ll be trying to resolve in the first of the sessions of this network. When David Gauntlett and I had a nice pizza with John Stack, Head of Tate Online, we got all enthused about the idea of playlists and how an art gallery could enable people to compile their own ‘playlists’ of paintings or objects, and so could curate their own exhibition.

Now in one way, that’s kind of reducing the concept of curation to “personalising” in the sense that someone could curate their own exhibition without knowing about art (only knowing what they like). I’ve tried to separate the concept of expert curation – knowing about art – and social curation – knowing what I like or what my “friends” “like”. On that basis DJs would be expert curators and their fans would be social curators. But does that mean that everyone’s a curator, and the term becomes meaningless?

Well, I think not. The important thing is not who has a job title and who doesn’t, but the type of activity people are engaged in. That’s where the neologism ‘curation’ comes in. It allows us to understand this as an activity rather than a job. So people who work in museums and galleries practise expert curation, and people who share things on the internet practise social curation (it’s a real phrase, just Google it).

And what this project is (partly) about is identifying ways of connecting these different ways of carrying out similar activities. We’ll have real museum curators and real DJs along at our first workshop session. So hopefully they’ll make beautify metaphorical music together at the University of Westminster on Thursday 29th March.

Please sign up if you’d like to join us.

Until then, you could read this really helpful blogpost from a real proper museum curator who’s trying to work out if she’s really been a DJ all these years.

Photo DJ Hero by Flickr user djrofi Some Rights Reserved used under Creative Commons Licence

Then there’s the use of the word “media” to describe almost anything happening on the internet – from Tesco’s online shop to the New York Times online. Then comes the word monetization which is almost universally recognised as being terrible – on so many levels (the grubbiest kind of commercialisation, the wanton manhandling of a perfectly good noun into a hopelessly weak transitive verb). Who  is being paid (money) for what, and by whom? Rather than trying to describe the perfectly straightforward matter (in capitalist societies, natch) of people being paid for their work, monetization feels more like a shrug, a vague hope, a kind of awkwardly expressed feeling that – y’know, it might be nice if, at some stage, you might get paid for some of what you’ve done.

One of the ways people have tried to solve the monetization problem is through the idea (metaphor?) of business models. This phrase has a nicely mechanistic (almost Meccano) feel about it. If you want to be paid, you need a bunch of bits and pieces so you can bolt a payment lever onto a communication channel attached to a few content creation devices – with some nice financial gearing up at the front.

A recent bit of research from Universal McCann looked at these issues from the point of view (not surprisingly) of their potential clients – brands. (You can download the whole thing if you want. But the point of a blogpost is that you don’t have to – so here’s my summary). What they found was that brands tend to think that social media are like ordinary media. So brands, like Snickers for example, approach the whole business a bit like they would an ordinary media advertising campaign.

They approach some celebs (Rio Ferdiand, Katie Price and Cher Lloyd – I include the surnames for other old people) and get them to share pictures of themselves conspicuously eating snickers on Twitter. Of course this backfired spectacularly, as an obvious piece of “monetization” inappropriate to a ‘social medium’. Which would tend to suggest, that social media are different from ordinary media, and in particular, with regard to monetization. Perhaps unsurprisingly, this is not the interpretation Mcann give to such findings. Instead they argue that brands, at least, need to make their work in social media more like ordinary media. They quote Simon Mansell, chief executive of social agency TBG Digital: “Most brands are not used to being journalists or publishers.”

To an extent this interpretation could apply to all of us. Partners in this project – the Tate, The British Library, Mixcloud, the University of Westminster, etc. – all are “brands”. And even the individuals – even me – we are all “personal brands”.

What I like about all this, of course, is it suggests there is a future for the kind of “ordinary media” which old people like me, and some of the people I teach, really quite like, and feel we understand. So, as I declared at the start, no contribution to a debate is purely objective and rational. There’s an element of “I told you I was right” about all of us. But the real value of a research network is that I’m forced to say what I really think and then watch as people demonstrate that I’m irrational and just plain wrong.

Photo by Flickr user 401K. Some rights reserved under a Creative Commons BY-SA 2.0 licence.